


5 Times Somebody Didn't Figure Out Toby's Secret, And 1 Time Somebody Did

by BookLoverL



Category: The Listener (TV)
Genre: 5+1, Foster home, Gen, Toby helping people, outside pov, paramedic school
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2018-12-03 22:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11541474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookLoverL/pseuds/BookLoverL
Summary: Toby does some pretty unusual things sometimes due to his telepathy. What do his logical leaps look like to those on the outside?





	1. Abby

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely love this show, and the fandom is absolutely tiny. So I thought I'd help add to it a little.
> 
> (Seriously, internet. Telepathic paramedic who solves crime! How is that not the coolest premise ever?)
> 
> I'm in England, so apologies if I end up using British English rather than Canadian English in the characters' speech.

The group foster home was dull and dingy, even in the midday sun, which cast its rays languidly over the snowbanks. The faded pastel walls and rickety bunk beds made her feel cast out, forgotten.

Abby missed her mom.

She’d come to the home just a week ago, after her mom had finally lost her long battle with cancer. Her dad had left the picture long ago, and she had no other living relatives. And her heart was breaking with grief.

She reached into the little drawer at the side of the bed, looking for the leather bound photo album she’d stashed away, all that she had left of her mom.

It wasn’t there.

The wave of panic swelled up in her chest like the ocean, threatening to capsize her completely. Why wasn’t it there? Where could it have gone? Had someone taken it?

“Are you ok?” someone asked. She forced herself to look up, trying not to hyperventilate, and saw seventeen-year-old Toby Logan standing at the door.

“It’s… it’s… my photo album is gone!” Abby cried. “It’s all I have left of her…”

“Breathe, Abby,” he began. “I know what that’s like, to lose somebody. I’ll help you find it.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?” she said, tears filling her eyes. She’d heard from some of the others that Toby had been trouble in the past, but if he really meant it…

“I’m not the person I was before,” he said. She must have looked more wary than she’d thought. “Like I said, I’ll help you. Now, where did you last see it?”

“I always keep it in this drawer,” she said, “but it’s not there. I had it before lunch, and I definitely put it back in the drawer.”

“Alright,” he said. “Did you tell anyone else about the album?”

“I don’t think so…” she said. “Wait… I think I saw someone watching me through the window earlier. A girl, with blonde hair. I know that’s not very helpful.” Toby looked at her intently with his deep blue eyes, then nodded.

“I think I can figure out who it is,” he said. “I know everyone here. If she took it, I’ll get you your album.” He smiled, and headed out the door.

“Wait…” Abby said, after he’d gone. “How will he know what it looks like?”

Half an hour later, Toby appeared at the door again. Abby was sat on the lower level of her bunk, worrying about what would happen if the album couldn’t be found.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, “I’ve got it. Penny, that’s the blonde girl you saw through the window, she’s the jealous type, and she lifted it out the drawer while you were at lunch. I found it stuffed behind a radiator.” He held up the battered little album, and it was the best thing Abby had ever seen.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said, and rushed over to hug him. He smiled, and gave it back to her.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Though, for what it’s worth, even if I hadn’t found it, you’ll always have the memories of your mom inside. You won’t forget her.”

“I guess,” Abby said. “I just worry so much that I’m going to forget what she even looked like. I miss her so much…”

“You won’t,” he reassured her. “I can tell.”

As he left her to look at the album, she wondered how he’d figured out what had happened to it- how many radiators were there in the building? It was only later, though, that she realised she’d never actually told him it was her mom.


	2. Frank

Frank Walters sighed as he rifled through the papers on his desk. Where was that damn form? Why didn’t he keep his desk more organised? What was he even doing with his life?

Well, he knew the answer to that last one. He was training paramedics, God help him. He wouldn’t give up the job for the world, but it didn’t half stress him out sometimes.

He could already tell that some of the students he’d met in the induction lecture the previous day wouldn’t make it through the course. There’d been that kid in the back row who looked like he was tired to the bone already, and the girl who’d sat near the front and spent rather a lot of time detailing her many, many anxieties about paramedic life to her neighbour, for a start. On the other hand, there were always students who surprised him.

The student that had him in his current predicament, however, wasn’t one of those. No, he’d done nothing wrong. It was entirely the bureaucracy of the student financing system that was at fault here. Tony Logan- no, wait, Toby, his name was Toby- had come out of the foster care system, and was supposed to have received a bursary to cover his course costs two weeks ago, but the money still hadn’t come through. The kid had been in his office the morning before the induction to talk about it, showing a surprising amount of patience for someone who was looking at living off beans until the bureaucrats could get their backsides in gear. He really wanted to get that kid’s money pushed through as soon as possible. If only he could find the form he needed…

A soft rapping at the door caught Frank’s attention. “Come in,” he called, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t distract him for too long. He knew there was something he'd been thinking about before this, too.

It was Toby – the very kid he'd just been thinking about. “Toby!” he said. “What can I do for you?”

“Professor Walters,” said Toby. “Did you sort my bursary out yet?”

“Ah, no, sorry, Toby,” said Frank. “I've lost the form somewhere, unfortunately. And, well...” He gestured to the messy pile of papers.

“Maybe I can help you find it?” Toby asked.

“I suppose,” agreed Frank. “I don't think there's anything too confidential in here.”

“Don't worry, Professor,” Toby replied. “I'm good at keeping secrets. Where did you see it last?”

Frank thought for a moment, but he couldn't think where he'd put it at all. “I really can't remember... I'm sure I had it on Friday, though.”

Toby looked at him thoughtfully. “Hmm... do you at least know what it looks like, Professor?”

“Oh... ah, it's got the whatchamacallit,” Frank began. He knew this was probably the least helpful description ever. He could picture it in his mind, but he really didn't know how to differentiate it from every other form in existence. “It's got a big box at the bottom, I think. And I wrote your name at the top.”

Toby was smiling, though. “Hey, Professor. We'll find it. It's gonna be okay.”

“Alright,” said Frank. “Uh, you take that pile, and I'll take this pile.”

“Can do,” said Toby, beginning to sort through the paper. He rifled through the stack quickly, and, after only a couple of minutes – when Frank had barely sorted through twenty pages – plucked out a particular sheet. “Is this it, Professor?”

“Yes,” said Frank, somewhat astounded. “Yes, that's it. Well done!” He took the page from Toby's hand. Yes, that was definitely it. There was his handwriting at the top. “I'll fill this out now, then, shall I? Then you can take it down to the main office.”

“Thanks, Professor,” said Toby. He waited while Frank filled out the last few boxes, then took the form. “Don't forget your wife's birthday's tomorrow.”

“So it is!” said Frank, and, in fact, that was what he'd forgotten before. “But, how did you know that?”

“I saw it on a note while I was looking for the form,” said Toby. “Have a nice day, Professor Walters.” He smiled, and slipped out of the door.

Frank wrote himself another note about his wife. Strange, that the kid would pick up on the one thing that was really important for him to remember today. And he wished he had that kid's searching skills.

Now, there were only a couple more forms he needed to find before he could go home. Where were they?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if the timeline's quite right here- I set this part fairly late in his teen years, so hopefully I gave him enough time to get over his troublemaker phase.


End file.
